


Journey

by Aerileah



Series: The Bracken Trails [3]
Category: Books of the Raksura - Martha Wells
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26831518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerileah/pseuds/Aerileah
Summary: Fern was stretched out, her head pillowed on Moon’s stomach as he gazed at the stars. This was her favorite time of the day, when they rested and Stone shared stories of his wide travels. “Did you ever look for other shifters?” Stone asked. She was grateful that Moon’s body was between her and Stone’s as she tensed up.Moon’s breathing stilled for a moment, then resumed. “For awhile. Then we stopped.” He made a shrugging motion with his shoulders. “We couldn’t search the whole Three Worlds.”
Series: The Bracken Trails [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913620
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	1. The Mountains

Despite Stone’s nonchalance, Fern quickly realized he was in more of a hurry than he’d initially indicated. They flew down the river gorge, Moon carrying her, then turned to cross the mountains. They saw more towers like the one they’d spent the night on, dotted throughout the cliffs in the mountain range. Some of them seemed to have collapsed on themselves, while others were tumbled to one side, like a great weight had struck them. Very few were standing. 

Fern could tell Moon was stretching out of shape muscles to keep up with Stone, whose wingspan allowed him to glide when Moon had to flap hard. He hadn’t spent more than a few hours daily in his shifted form in months. Fern had forgotten how exhausting it was to be carried in the wind and cold, holding her weight up to take some of that burden off Moon's arms. She stayed in her Arbora - how odd to know the word for it! - form for the entire day. 

As the sun sank further in the sky, Stone indicated a hollow in the mountain rock, sheltered by some trees on a ridge above, that would provide shelter from the biting wind. Moon landed on the ridge, set Fern down, and climbed into the hollow before shifting to groundling and slumping in an exhausted heap. 

Fern shifted as well, relieved to release her tail from pulling on her spine. She rubbed at Moon’s upper back with one hand, watching as Stone circled in to land. Stone shifted and stepped into the hollow. Seeing the mist obscure his large Aeriat form for a normal-sized groundling to step out was no less unsettling than the first time she’d seen it. Stone dropped his pack and stretched his arms. “It’s a little chilly in here,” he observed.

"A little,” Moon snorted. The granite of the mountain radiated cold like a block of ice. 

Fern looked around. “There isn’t a lot of room for a fire.” 

Stone shoved an arm in his pack and rummaged around. “We aren’t staying long enough for a fire.” 

Moon growled under his breath, but didn’t argue. Fern took a breath to speak, then looked away from Stone. She continued rubbing at Moon’s upper back with one hand. She didn’t want to say something that would make Stone cut this break short. Moon certainly needed a rest, however brief. 

“Why didn’t you stop at the other colony on the way east?” Moon asked. 

“Sky Copper has always been small,” Stone said. “I knew they weren’t likely to have any spare warriors. I need to ask them about something else." Stone paused thoughtfully. “And the mentors said the best chance was to go to Star Aster. Or toward Star Aster. Maybe they said ‘toward.’” 

“You said mentors have special talents? Are they shamen?” She and Moon had often had bad luck with shamen. The worthless ones were annoying, the suspicious ones drove them away from settlements that would be otherwise pleasant, and the very few who had real power had led the hunting parties chasing her and Moon. 

“Augurs, mostly,” Stone said in answer to her question, “and healers.” He pulled the blanket from his pack and spread it on the stone. He shoved his pack into place as a pillow, the lump of the kettle pushed to the side. He patted the other half of the blanket. “Come on, get some rest.”

Fern and Moon looked at each other. Fern moved her hand to the top of Moon’s shoulder and squeezed twice. Moon licked his lips, then deliberately said, “We aren’t sleeping with you.” 

Stone’s expression went from unreadable, to something Fern didn't recognize, to amused. He lifted a brow. “I have great-grandchildren older than you.” He pointed to a white seam on his elbow. “See this scar? It’s older than the both of you put together.” Fern blinked. How old was Stone? And how long did Raksura usually live? If she and Moon couldn’t find a place at this court of Stone’s, they might be drifting from one settlement to the next for a _long_ time indeed. _Do Arbora and Aeriat have different life expectancies?_ she wondered. _What if I die before Moon and he’s all alone for years and years?_

Fern started when she felt Moon tug her wrist. He’d edged down and settled next to Stone on the blanket. Stone rolled onto his side, facing away from them. Fern eased down into the circle of Moon’s arms, facing his chest and tucking her face under his chin. She heard Stone mutter something, but it was muffled by the wind. 

“Bastard,” Moon said back, then smoothed Fern's hair back from tickling his face and fell asleep almost instantly. Fern matched her breaths to Moon’s and hoped that she would be able to get some sleep. 

***

It was the early hours of the morning, or deep hours of the night, Fern wasn’t sure, when Stone woke them. It wasn’t her favorite way to wake up. Stone must have shaken or thumped Moon with an elbow. Fern's first sensation was Moon clutching her tight and scrambling out of the hollow, ready to make a run down the mountainside if that’s what it took to get them away from what had startled him. Stone blinked at them a few times. Fern tapped Moon on the cheek twice. He returned to the hollow, set her down, and she rebraided her hair.

"What's with you?" Stone said as he folded the blanket.

"I'm used to sleeping in a tent," Moon grumbled.

***

Fern lost track of time in the next few days. She was sure Moon hated every moment fighting the headwinds - probably as much as she hated being carried in them. When they stopped, which wasn’t as often as she would have liked, they slept briefly and either Stone or Moon hunted the lean grasseaters that made these mountains home. Fern craved bread and fruit and vegetables, but kept quiet and didn’t complain. She could tell Moon was gaining energy and stamina with each passing day as he built up his wing and shoulder muscles.

After they ate, but before they slept, Stone asked Moon about where they’d traveled, what they’d seen, and where they’d lived. Stone shared stories of his own travels. If Fern had had any energy, she would have loved to stay awake and ask questions. As it was she managed to stay awake long to eat the food Moon put into her hands.

Fern didn’t quite realize it when they came out of the fringes of the mountain at twilight on the fifth day. She’d been imagining and wishing for rolling green hills and warmth for what felt like forever. When Stone and Moon landed on a ledge she sat for a while and just rubbed her fingertips over the sparse grass. She didn’t remember shifting to her softskinned form. She thought she’d probably shifted back and forth a lot over the past day. Moon put a neatly chopped piece of meat in front of her on a piece of flat slate. She took a bite and was surprised when it wasn’t terribly gamey and chewy. 

She and Moon had had difficult times in the past. As children, they had scrounged for food to eat in middens outside of settlements, and every settlement they drifted through had its own challenges and pitfalls. It was exhausting even thinking about remembering some of them. Even so, she hadn’t felt so miserable so many days in a row since they’d started living with the Cordans. 

“Fern,” Moon said. “Finish that meat and I’ll give you tea.” 

“I want tea now,” Fern sniffed. 

“The tea is steeping,” Moon soothed. “Finish the meat, please?” He smoothed her hair back from her face, and she woodenly chewed and swallowed. It felt like only a few breaths later that Moon was putting a cup of tea in her hands, and she just sat for a time feeling the warmth in her fingers and breathing in the steam. 

She heard Moon and Stone talking, but it felt like it was far away.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” That was Moon. “Couldn’t we have circled south a bit before coming over the mountains?”

“I’ve been gone too long as it is.” That was Stone. 

“We have to slow the pace.” Moon again, and he sounded angry. 

Stone again, this time it was a tone of voice Fern hadn’t heard from him before. “Did she have a sickly childhood?” 

Fern didn’t hear any talking for a while, or maybe they were still talking and her ears just didn’t want to listen. She took another sip of tea, but nothing came out of the cup. She looked at the inside of her cup and was surprised it was empty. 

She realized she was in Moon’s lap, his legs crossed under her, and that Stone sat across a fire from them both. Stone was smiling at her, but it was a strange smile. It reminded her of that tone of voice from earlier. A cup was pressed into her hands, full of warm tea. She didn’t remember the empty cup being taken away. She took a long sip. Some nuts and dried fruits in her hands next, deliciously crunchy and flavorful. 

Moon finger-combed her hair and braided it for her, tying the braid in place with a string Stone pulled from somewhere. Then Moon wrapped her up in the blanket - the whole blanket to herself - and pillowed her head on his lap. She fell asleep lulled by the crackling of the fire and the soft noise of Moon and Stone’s voices above her. 


	2. The Plains

At dawn they flew across the grassland. Fern stayed in her softskinned form to conserve her energy, Moon holding her securely against his chest. Old pillars stuck out of the vibrant green stalks, which grew taller and taller as they left the mountains behind them. At midday they found a broad road cutting a path through the tall grass, about a hundred paces wide and built of the same rock as the pillars. Fern wondered if the pillars were part of a decayed aqueduct or something else, and wondered if it was a long-dead civilization that built it, or a race of people still alive and well. Stone flew higher and angled their course to keep the road in sight. 

“What do you think he’s looking for?” Moon asked in Fern’s ear.

“Maybe people still travel along this road and he wants to barter for supplies?” Fern suggested.

Moon grunted disapprovingly. 

As the day darkened toward evening, they came across a groundling caravan trundling on the road, the travelers walking alongside box wagons pulled by shaggy beasts. Fern could feel Moon preparing to bank around the group in a wide arc. She was unsurprised when Stone circled down to land in the tall grass a short distance from the road. The groundlings couldn’t see their dark scales in the waning light, but Fern could feel Moon practically leaning away from even the thought of going closer. She reached up and tapped his cheek twice. He twitched and met her eyes, then sighed and circled into land in the flattened grass marked by Stone’s landing. 

Stone had already shifted to groundling and was stretching and rolling his shoulders. Moon set Fern down and shifted to groundling. The grass around them was as tall as a small tree, standing well above their heads. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

Stone gave him a pointed look, as if the answer was obvious. “I want the news. They’re Sericans, probably coming from Kish.” 

“We’ve never been to Kish. What’s it like?” Fern asked. 

Moon signed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “What, you’re just going to walk up to them?” 

Stone lifted a brow. “I could stand on the roadside and shout at them from a distance.” 

Moon shook his head incredulously. “They’re going to be suspicious. How many other groundlings do you see just walking around out here?” 

“Maybe fifty or sixty, judging by the wagons,” Stone said, shouldering his pack. “Are you coming or are you going to wait here?”

“I’m coming,” Fern chirped. 

Moon grabbed Fern’s forearm reflexively. 

Stone sighed, shifting his weight as though prepared to discuss the matter all night. “These people travel long distances, and they see a lot of strange things. Some of them will suspect we’re different. As long as they don’t feel threatened, they won’t attack.” 

“It’s like the first time we met the Hassi, Moon,” Fern said soothingly. 

“Or like every time we ever bumped into any cedar-rin,” Moon grumbled to her. He turned back to Stone and said, “What if you’re wrong?” 

Stone started away through the grass. “I’ve been wrong before,” he admitted, not helpfully. Moon released Fern and moved to grab Stone’s shoulder. Stone spun, his eyes wide. 

“If something goes wrong...” Moon said quietly. 

“Moon!” Fern scolded.

“I will do everything in my power to make sure Fern is safe,” Stone said, his face serious. He lifted his hand to briefly clasp Moon’s. Then he cocked an eyebrow. “Now get your grubby claws off me.” Fern saw his fingers squeeze Moon’s hand, then he spun and walked toward the road. 

Fern grabbed Moon’s hand and followed Stone, tugging when Moon hesitated. “That wasn’t necessary,” she chided. 

“Yes it was,” Moon said. 

The road was built up more than ten paces high, making it more of a causeway through the grassland than anything else. There were crumbling steps built incrementally along the road, half covered by the tall grass. Stone headed up one set of stairs and Fern followed him, practically skipping. Moon reluctantly climbed with her, his grip on her hand tightening as they approached the groundlings. 

They had loitered in the grass long enough that the groundlings had finished circling their wagons and were lighting campfires directly on the roadway. The groundlings had blue skin, black hair and wore bright colors. Several men came out to greet Stone, and Moon tried to pull Fern back toward the edge of the road, but she tugged him forward. The men spoke Altanic, asking Stone if they were from Kaupi or Loros, and Stone replied only that they were travelers heading west. They eventually brought Stone into the camp to sit with what Fern thought was their leader. 

“Would you like to sit with us?” a woman asked Fern, indicating a fire adjacent to where Stone and the leader chatted. The woman had dark blue skin and black hair as well. Her long coat was a bright blue, with black cording, accented by a pair of violet pantaloons. 

“Yes,” Fern said, “I would like that very much. Can my brother sit with us?” 

The woman led Fern and Moon to the fire, introducing herself as Euga and the other occupants seated around the fire as her three sisters, two brothers, and some younger cousins. 

“Your coat is a lovely color,” Fern said to Euga. As she settled into a seated position by the fire, she abruptly realized her dirty bare feet, brown smock and loose pants - not to mention Moon’s threadbare pants and ripped shirt - made them look quite out of place. She shook her hair back from her face, and tried not to think about it. Moon stood awkwardly behind her. 

“We weave the fabric shorn from our daruck beasts,” the woman said. “The dyes come from the mountains.” The woman looked up behind Fern. “Your brother, is he well?” 

“He’s shy,” Fern said, and patted his leg genially. “Please don’t let our presence interrupt any conversation you were having before we arrived.”

“We were sharing stories,” Euga said, “Rioco just asked me to share the story of how the dreamseer and hunter constellation came to brighten our skies, if you would like to hear it.” 

t

Fern clasped her hands and nodded emphatically. 

***

Euga had finished her story and had yielded the fire to her brother, Cuon, when Moon gently squeezed Fern’s shoulder. Fern looked up and saw that Stone was standing up from his conversation with the leader. “Oh.” She turned back to the fire. “It’s time for us to leave,” she said apologetically, and stood. 

“Wait, please,” said Euga, digging in her pockets. She pulled out a length of gold braided cord and passed it to Fern. Feeling her the edges of her eyes tingle, Fern held the cord to the fire. It had several strands of bright blue woven throughout. “It will sparkle with your eyes,” Euga said by way of explanation. 

“Thank you,” Fern said. “I will treasure it.” Euga smiled brightly and the others at the fire waved farewell as Fern and Moon walked with Stone to the edge of the roadway. 

As they descended the steps, Moon asked Stone, “Was there news?” 

“There are rumors of Fell along the inland sea,” Stone said. “They haven’t seen any, but they know caravaners and shipmasters who won’t go any further east than Demi.” Stone seemed thoughtful. “For a couple of generations it seemed they were dying out, but now they’re moving around again, more active than they’ve been in twenty turns.”

Fern swallowed. She didn't know where Demi was, but that ignorance didn't make her feel any better.

Moon shrugged uncomfortably. “There’s Fell everywhere,” he said. 

***

They slept that night on top of one of the big pillars that dotted the plains, the top of it a hundred paces square. The stone was still warm from the day’s sun, and Fern and Moon stretched out to bask in the heat. 

“Did you ever look for other shifters?” Stone asked. Fern was stretched out, her head pillowed on Moon’s stomach as he gazed at the stars. She was grateful that Moon’s body was between her and Stone’s as she tensed up. 

Moon’s breathing stilled for a moment, then resumed. “For awhile. Then we stopped.” He made a shrugging motion with his shoulders. “We couldn’t search the whole Three Worlds.” 

“And you don’t know the name of the court or your bloodline?”

“No. Our mother didn’t tell us anything,” Moon said pointedly. 

“How did she and the other Arbora die?” Stone asked. 

Moon reached a hand down and gently tapped Fern’s shoulder twice. She tapped back. 

“Tath,” Fern said. Her voice was so soft she wasn’t sure if Stone heard. 

Tath were reptilian groundlings, quick and clever predators covered in an armored skin. She remembered waking in confusion and noise, the screeching cries of the Tath rattling her skull. Sorrow had tossed Moon, then her, from the nest. She remembered hearing Sorrow shout, “Catch her, Moon! Stay together!” Between Moon’s frantic flapping and their desperate tumble down through the branches, they were disoriented and more than terrified when a Tath grabbed at them. Fern clawed its eyes, Moon swiped at the top of its head, and it fell from the branch. They had struggled back up through the tree together, scrambling back for the nest, but by the time they arrived their family was all dead, torn to pieces. 

“It happened… fast,” Moon added. 

Fern realized in later years, after she and Moon had been chased from yet another groundling settlement, that Sorrow had thrown Moon from the nest because he was the only one who could fly, and thrown Fern out because she was the smallest and the most likely one Moon would be able to catch and save. She and Moon had been playing in the days before the attack, coasting from branch to branch with her clinging to him. That flying game had saved her life.

They were silent for a time, listening to the wind rustle through the grasses below. 

Stone dusted off his hands and veered off the subject completely. "Do you know why it's called the Three Worlds?" 

Fern felt Moon relax under her head, and tried to relax as well. She hadn’t thought about it before. 

“Three continents?” Moon guessed.

“Three realms,” Stone said. “Earth, sky, and sea. Everyone remembers the sea realms, but they’ve forgotten the sky realms. It’s been so many generations since the sky peoples fought among themselves. They’re mostly gone now, with no one left to tell the stories."

Fern wondered if she and Moon had been right in their reasoning to explore the sky-islands. “Is that where we’re from?” she asked

His voice distance, Stone said, "No. We’ve always come from the earth."

***

Fern didn’t remember her dreams the following morning, but waking up felt like digging herself out from under turf and dirt, and the scent of smoke clung to her nostrils. Restless energy clung to her fingertips, and she distracted herself by slowly braiding the cord Euga had given her into her hair while Moon and Stone prepared for flight. 


	3. The Memory

“How do you tell a queen from a female warrior?” Fern asked. The question had been gnawing at her insides like a predator with a meaty bone. She wanted to ask about consorts too, but told herself to keep her questions to one topic at a time. 

Stone set his tea cup aside. They had flown most of the day, leaving the road completely behind, and landed on a pillar to rest. Moon caught a grasseater and brought it back for them to share. Stone nibbled a bit, but left the majority for Fern and Moon, saying he could wait. She thought he was waiting to eat at Sky Copper. Stone had lit a small fire, then snuffed it once the tea brewed. 

"Queens have a different color pattern to their scales, and their spines are longer," he said in answer to Fern's question. "When they shift, they lose their wings but they look more like Arbora than groundlings. They keep their claws, tails, some of their spines.” Fern felt distinctly uncomfortable, and squirmed a bit. “This woman who called herself your mother. What did she look like?” he asked. 

Fern swallowed. “Her groundling form looked a lot like Moon. When she shifted, she was dark brown, with red under her scales.” 

Stone looked at Fern, and they shared eye contact for a long moment. “She was a warrior, then.” Stone said. Fern nodded. It was as she'd thought. Sorrow hadn't been her - or Moon's - mother.

"So what makes queens so special?" Moon demanded. 

"Queens hold the court together, weigh the needs of the Arbora and Aeriat and balance the two. A queen also has powers mentors don’t. If you're close to a queen, she can keep you from shifting," Stone explained. 

Fern and Moon looked at one another, then back to Stone. 

"Are there a lot of them?" Moon asked. 

Stone frowned, as though the question had more meaning than the two of them realized. "At Indigo Cloud? Just the two. The reigning queen and the younger one. There should be more, at least a clutch of sister queens to support the reigning queen. But we’ve had bad luck." 

Fern thought if the settlement - colony - was small it might be hard to avoid them. But she'd done a fine enough job of avoiding Selis and Ilane at the Cordans' camp. If she and Moon worked together they'd probably manage just fine. She resisted the urge to reach out and tap the back of Moon's hand. 

Stone said slowly, “There’s what’s called a royal clutch. Five female Aeriat, born at the same time. As they grow into fledglings, one or two or three turn into queens and the rest turn into warriors. Sometimes the ones that turn out to be warriors… don’t get over the disappointment. It makes them do crazy things sometimes. Like leave their court, steal clutches.” 

Moon’s eyes narrowed. “You think our mother stole us.” 

Stone stirred a little uncomfortably, admitting, “It might have been something else. Sometimes colonies fail. She might have been a survivor. Or she might not have been.”

Fern felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders tense and knew that if she'd had spines they would be raised above her head threateningly. Moon bristled as well. 

"She didn't steal us," Fern snapped.

\---

_She was watching the four boys play-wrestling in a patch of sunlight, gently finger-combing the hair of a small child in her lap. She felt a wave of affection and bittersweet melancholy as the child looked up into her face. Blue eyes, wild light brown hair. The child smiled at her. The child was a young Fern._

_She looked back up to the playing boys - no, Sorrow's eyes looked up - and Sorrow's voice said softly, more to herself than anyone else, "It's been over a turn and no one has come to rescue us. I suppose I am your mother now."_

_A crashing wave of grief and sorrow and horror swept through her. She wrapped her arms around Fern in a hug and bent her face into the top of the child's head, squeezing her eyes tightly shut in a futile attempt to hold her tears in._

\---

"Fern. Fern?" Moon was holding her shoulders, staring into her eyes. "Fern, what happened? What did you see?"

"I remembered something," Fern said, a little breathlessly.

Stone coughed, and they both turned to look at him. "How often does that happen?" he asked.

"What?" Fern asked, her voice still a little shaky.

"Your eyes went white, Fern," Moon said softly. "Like that time…" his voice trailed off.

Fern met Moon's eyes, and shook her head fiercely. "Yes, it's happened before," she said to Stone. 

"You're a mentor." 

Fern absorbed that for a moment. She pursed her lips. "Sorrow didn't steal us. I know that in my bones, just as surely as I know the direction south lies." 

“What did you see?” Stone pressed. 

Fern looked at Moon and pretended she was speaking only to him. “I was looking from Sorrow’s eyes, watching us as children. She said she was waiting for someone to rescue us. She was giving up.”

“You augured the past,” Stone said. “You’ve done this before?” 

Fern narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that strange?”

Stone wrinkled his nose. “Mentors can have different talents, but I haven’t heard of an augury of the past like that. If it has happened, it’s probably in the histories somewhere.” Stone refilled Fern’s tea cup and held it out. Moon took it and passed it to Fern. “The warrior’s name was Sorrow?” he continued. 

“Yes,” Moon said. 

Stone sighed that particular sigh of his, picking up his tea cup and sipping.

"What?" Fern demanded.

"I wouldn't name any of my kids that," Stone said. "It's just asking for trouble."

Fern took several more sips of tea while Moon re-settled himself next to her. 

Stone leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “Do you have any other talents?”

"How do you tell a consort from a warrior?" Fern asked. The more she looked at Stone, the more she watched him fly, the more she saw his similarities to Moon. 

Stone narrowed his eyes at her. 

She would not be distracted from this. "Do consorts shift like queens do, or do they have a winged form and a groundling form like you and Moon?”

Stone rubbed his temples. "I’ve never seen an untrained, mature mentor before, Fern. We need to talk about this.”

“No,” Fern said. “Not until you answer my questions.”

“Fern?” Moon questioned. “Why are you--”

“Consorts have black scales,” Stone interrupted. 

"But--" Moon started, then stopped. 

Fern felt vindicated - and horrified. Her gaze snapped to Stone and Moon and back to Stone. "You're both consorts."

"Yes," Stone said.

Fern reached for Moon and shifted. Moon instinctively shifted simultaneously with her. When one of them shifted, that meant they were escaping danger, and they’d perfected the knack of shifting together turns ago. She stood quickly, gripping Moon’s wrist to pull him to his feet. He remained seated and adjusted his position to accommodate his tail and wings. 

“Moon,” she hissed, tugging. He looked at her, his spines twitching in surprise. Stone set his teacup down, and Fern felt her spines rise in a threatening arc behind her head. Stone looked at them both, quirking an eyebrow. She was starting to feel foolish. She switched to the Hassi language. “We have to leave.” She didn’t know if Stone knew Hassi, but it was the only language she could think of that he might not know. “He wants you for breeding,” she choked out. 

Moon looked at Stone. “Something you forgot to tell us?” he said in Raksuran. His voice was a little choked, but he held his composure.

Stone looked thoughtfully at Moon, then returned Fern’s gaze steadily, his good eye sharp and canny. “Why this reaction?” 

Fern could feel her pulse pounding in her temples. She couldn’t answer that question. She couldn’t. 

“The last woman I was with poisoned us so her people could drag us off to be killed by giant vargits,” Moon said. Fern felt dizzy with relief. 

Stone shrugged. “Most groundlings think consorts look like Fell.” 

Fern saw Moon make a face out of the corner of her eye. “I’d been with her for months.” She grimaced when Moon added, “She wanted a baby. My baby.” 

“Oh.” Stone said, his voice perfectly neutral. 

Moon shifted to groundling, and Fern shifted automatically with him. She hissed when she realized what he’d done. “Fern,” Moon said soothingly. “It’s all right.” 

“He’s been hiding this from us,” she said in Hassi. 

“Maybe,” Moon allowed, speaking in Hassi this time. He tugged her hand gently. “Or maybe there’s so much we don’t know it’s impossible to tell us everything all at once.”

Fern shook her head, trying to settle her spines. "Stop being reasonable,” She slowly sat down. “I want to be angry.” She saw amusement in Stone’s good eye. She wondered how she didn’t see how annoying he was before this moment. 

“What language is that?” Stone asked. 

“Hassi,” Moon said, switching back to Raksuran. “We lived with them a long time, before the Fell came and they had to go to ground.” 

Fern thought of the Hassi and their wooden city built high in the link-tree forest to the east. The city had a clever plumbing system that brought water up from the forest floor. The Hassi weren’t nosy or suspicious, and had never questioned their ability to forage and help in even the uppermost branches of the link-trees. They had been a little like treelings, a little like groundlings. She sometimes wondered if they knew more about her and Moon than they’d let on. When the Fell came, the Hassi went to hide in the cramped root and tunnel system under the forest, and she and Moon had to fly away. 

Moon squeezed her hand, and Fern looked up at Stone. “Why - exactly - did you ask us to come with you?” she asked. 

“I want the court to leave this colony and go back west, to the home forest.” Stone sighed gustily. “Moving a court is complicated. We need more Aeriat to carry the Arbora for the long journey. The reigning queen and Arbora won’t even consider leaving unless they feel we have a future to the west. They want at least a prospective consort for the daughter queen.”

“And you want Moon to be that prospective consort,” Fern guessed. If she had spines, she’d be bristling them all over again. Moon tapped the back of Fern’s hand twice, and she relaxed a tiny, tiny bit. 

“I did plan on stopping at Sky Copper on the way.” Stone reminded them. He tipped his head back to look at the sun, then started packing up his bag. “And it’s time to get moving.” 

“I’m not done asking questions yet,” Fern argued. 

“I’d expect no less,” Stone said. He walked a small distance away, enough for his winged form not to knock them over, then shifted and leapt for the sky. Fern hissed and turned to Moon. He’d already shifted and was reaching for her, and she realized she had shifted with him. 

“I’m still angry,” she snarled. 

Moon laughed. “I’d expect no less,” he said. He side-stepped her annoyed tail lash and took them both into the sky. 


	4. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first scene is modeled on a snippet Martha Wells posted to her Patreon on Dec 21, 2015, titled "4. Moon and Stone: the Time of the Eastern Colony."

Fern tried to hold onto her anger and indignation, but it seemed to float away from her as though caught by the breeze. That same breeze sent ripples through the tall grass, setting it to flow like the waves of a deep green sea. As dusk settled over the plain, Stone circled to land, and she was surprised there weren’t any of the wide, tall columns in the vicinity. Moon circled to follow, and Fern saw there was a ruin of some kind, a big disk of shaped stone, cracked and worn with age. Stone landed next to the disk and shifted to groundling. Moon landed atop the disk and set Fern down. She immediately shifted to her softskinned form and sat down, hard. 

“What’s down there?” Moon asked, striding to the edge of the disk to look at Stone. 

“An underground spring,” Stone called up. Fern inhaled deeply. Yes, there was a scent of water, and the rich aroma of loam and mud as Stone dug down. Stone’s senses must be strong indeed for him to have scented it from the air. 

“It’ll draw predators,” Moon said. 

“Good. I’m a little hungry,” Stone replied, and climbed onto the stone disk to wait for the water in the newly-dug spring to clear. 

The three of them stretched out on their backs on the warm stone, Fern in between Stone and Moon. Fern had thought long and hard during the flight about what questions to ask Stone and didn’t want to waste this opportunity. 

"Why didn't you get a consort and warriors from Sky Copper?" she asked. She tried to keep her voice calm. She didn’t think she’d succeeded. 

Stone snorted. "I told you, the _mentors_ said our best shot was toward Star Aster." He emphasized the word 'mentors' with a pointed tone of voice.

“Uh, huh, right," Fern said. "What role does a consort have in a court?” she asked. Stone snorted again. Fern steadfastly kept her eyes at the sky. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“How many times have you had an augury like you did earlier today?” he countered. 

Fern felt a growl build in her chest, and quelled it. 

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine,” Stone offered. 

“Fern, can’t you just take a nap?” Moon said. “I know you’re tired.” 

Fern ignored her brother. “You answer first.” 

"I've already answered one."

"You are a--" Fern said, then stopped as she realized she didn't have any apt words.

“A consort carries the bloodline of the court and helps his queen in managing the needs of the colony,” Stone said easily. “Your turn.” 

“It’s more than just that,” Fern challenged. 

“Yes, it is,” Stone agreed, “but I did answer the question. How many times have you had an augury like you did earlier today?” 

Fern gritted her teeth. “What happened today - having a vision into the past through another’s eyes - it's happened once before. I also have dreams sometimes of things that haven’t yet happened. I dreamed of a great pair of wings coming down on us before we met you. We’ve left settlements because I dreamed of the groundlings turning on us, and the one time we didn’t leave it was… bad.” 

Moon shivered beside her. The groundlings had caught Fern and thrown her over a cliff. Moon had shifted to catch her, and the groundlings had tried to shoot them both from the sky. They’d nearly succeeded. Moon had a scar on his lower back and another on his leg from arrows that had caught him between his scales. 

“Do consorts mate with a queen permanently?” she asked. 

“Yes. Unless they realize they are incompatible, in which case the consort might return to his birth court. That's pretty rare. Have you ever been able to imbue objects with light or heat?” 

“No. Never thought to try. Does a consort get to choose his queen?” 

“Yes, generally. Court alliances might be arranged with a negotiated pairing. In a healthy court, the consort and queen would grow up together and a consort would know which queen he wants to belong to.” 

“ _Belong to_? Like property?” Fern was startled enough to turn her head to face Stone. 

Stone turned his head so his good eye could see her and quirked an eyebrow. She glared. She didn’t care that it wasn’t her turn to ask a question. “No, not like property,” Stone said. “A queen belongs to the consort just as much as he belongs to her.” Stone turned his head back to the sky and continued, “A queen may have multiple consorts. It makes for stronger bloodlines. A queen’s first consort is typically involved in the choice of any others.”

Fern felt Moon twitch beside her. He asked, hesitantly, “But a consort can’t have multiple queens?” 

“No,” Stone said. “Believe me, you wouldn’t want that." He stretched his arms up toward the sky, then tucked his hands behind his head. "Consorts can also breed with the Arbora of the court. The mixing of Arbora and Aeriat bloodlines encourages clutches with mentors.” 

“Huh,” Moon mused. 

Fern was thought of the Cordans, as well as other groundlings they'd lived with, who tried to hide who they had sex with, except for when they gossiped incessantly about who was sleeping with someone else. “And you’re the only consort in your court?” Fern asked.

“Yes,” Stone said, his voice subdued. "I'm what's called a line-grandfather." Moon clasped Fern’s wrist gently, and he tapped the back of her hand twice. She closed her eyes for a nap. 

She didn't remember dreaming, but when she awoke the scent of smoke clung to her nostrils.

***

It was late the next afternoon when they reached the end of the plain, the tall grasses turning to rolling hills and scrubby vegetation. Stone was flying faster and faster as they crested each hill, and Moon flapped hard to keep up. When Stone stopped abruptly, flaring his wings, Moon overshot him and had to circle back. By the time he and Fern had banked and turned around, Stone was perched on the rocky crest of a hill. 

Moon landed beside him, breathing hard. “What is it?” Fern asked. Moon didn’t shift, and she kept her grip on his collar flange. Stone shifted to groundling. She’d noticed that he never spoke in his winged form, and was waiting to ask him if he could.

Stone watched the horizon with narrowed eyes. “Something’s wrong. Their sentries should have come out to escort us in.” 

Fern twisted, squinting into the setting sun but not sure what she was supposed to be looking for. Stone shifted and surged back into the sky. Moon swore and leapt after him. Fern kept her eyes on the ground ahead, looking for whatever the colony was supposed to be, and gasped when she saw it. The colony was a mound, an even shape buried among the hills, but there was something terribly wrong. The back of the mound was a collapsed jumble of rock and dirt and uprooted trees, and she could smell the acrid stench of charred wood and flesh. 

The garden terraces below the damage were torn with massive claw marks. Stone landed on a terrace below the collapse, folded his wings, and just stood there. Moon landed next to him, gripping Fern tightly. She had expected a million different things. To be turned away. To be welcomed. To be ignored. But she hadn’t expected this. The damage, the way the supports of the mound had been dug up and ripped apart - it reminded her of a time and place she had tried to forget for turns. Moon paced to one of the support logs and reached out with one arm, retracting his claws and running his palm over the smooth wood. 

“Something dug through from out here,” he murmured. Fern shuddered. 

Stone turned and walked for the nearest intact opening, and Moon absent-mindedly moved to follow. Stone abruptly whipped his head toward them both and growled. The sound reverberated, shaking the air and ground. Fern felt it rattle through Moon's body and it pressed deep in her chest. All her muscles locked in place. Moon tightened his grip around Fern and leapt back, away from Stone, cupping his wings to land lightly a distance away. Stone turned, tucked his wings back, and slipped into the colony. 

Fern looked around and saw a flat rock at the summit of the adjacent hill. She pointed, her hand a bit shaky, and Moon flew up to it. He set Fern down, and both of their claws scored the surface of the rock, exactly like the dozens of other similar marks on the rock. The Raksura of this colony must have used this spot as a common perch. Fern thought about what the colony must have looked like before, with Arbora tending the gardens and Aeriat flying above. Moon shifted to his groundling form, and Fern shifted with him. 

“Well, that’s that,” Moon said sourly, and sat down. He wrapped his arms around his knees. 

Fern shook her head. “He wants to move his court because of the Fell,” she said. “I didn’t think to ask why, I just--” She turned to look at Moon and his resigned expression told her everything she needed to know. He’d suspected it from the beginning. 

He met her eyes, and her chest ached. “If we’re going to leave,” he murmured, “we should do it now.” She gritted her teeth, and looked back at the mound. Suddenly, Moon surged to his feet next to her. He shifted, and she automatically reached for him in the middle of her own shift. He whipped a wing in front of her face, batting her away. “The Fell are still here,” he snarled, and jumped for the mound. 

“Moon!” she shrieked as he took flight without her. She climbed down from the flat rock, swearing every curse she knew, switching to Hassi when she ran out of words in Altanic and Kedaic. She didn’t know any really good obscenities in Raksuran. She’d have to rectify that. 

She whistled for Moon, a sharp short sound demanding an answer. No sound came back to her ears. She made her way down the hill as quickly as she dared, clambering over rocks and around scrubby trees and bushes. She kept most of her attention to listening for even the slightest sounds. A terrible crashing sound came from within the mound, and she broke into a headlong run. Then, several sections of the mound slumped, as though some part of the inner structure was falling apart. She froze, her breath catching in her throat. 

Moon clambered out of one of the openings near the top of the mound, and the breath caught in her throat turned into a sob. He flew straight for her, his eyes wide and wild. He dipped and caught her around the waist without landing, and flew back to the top of the hill with the flat rock. He smelled like smoke, Fell, and death. His claws were streaked with blood.

“Moon?” she asked, patting his arms and sides, catching his face in her hands, her claws carefully retracted. “Moon, are you hurt?” A sudden whoosh startled them both, and he grabbed Fern and dove over the crest of the hill, scrambling and breathing hard. He paused momentarily and they looked back at the top of the hill, but it was just Stone, standing on the flat rock in groundling form. 

“Come here,” Stone said. Moon tensed, and Fern adjusted in his arms to better grip his collar flange. She reached up and tapped his cheek. He took a deep breath, met her and eyes, climbed back up to the rock. 

They both shifted to groundling and faced Stone. 

“Sorry,” Stone said. Fern blinked. Moon blinked. “You all right?” He reached out to brush some dirt off Moon’s forehead, and he ducked and shied away. Fern tensed. 

“Yes,” Moon said shortly, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

"What happened?" Fern asked.

"There were still some dakti and a kethel in there," Moon said. "They're dead now." 

There were three main breeds of Fell: dakti, kethel, and rulers. Rulers were the smarts of the species, the ones that planned the traps and tricked the leaders of groundling cities to admit them. Then they had the dakti and kethel fly in to tear everything apart. 

“Will you still come with me?” Stone asked, looking back and forth between them. “To Indigo Cloud?” 

Fern looked to Moon, but Moon kept his eyes on Stone. “You think the Fell are already there,” Moon said.

Fern swallowed. 

“Yes, they could be there now. They know we’re weak, ready to be hit. I don’t know how much time I’ve got.” Stone winced, as if it hurt to admit it. “It’ll take three days at the speed we’ve been traveling. I can make it in one.” 

Fern threaded her hand into Moon’s. 

Moon nodded. “Show me which way to go and we’ll follow--”

“Or I could take you both. Now.” 

Moon’s hand squeezed Fern’s. “I don’t understand why we can’t just follow you,” Moon said warily. 

“Because I need to get there quickly,” Stone said pointedly, “and I need you both with me. Look, either you trust me, or you don’t--”

“We don’t,” said Fern, frustrated. 

“You both are so cynical, you’ll fit right in.” Stone lifted his brows. “Well?” 

“It’s this or nothing, isn’t it?” Fern asked. 

“Why do you need us with you?” Moon pressed.

Stone let his breath out. “Because I don’t want you changing your minds along the way, and it will be better for you if you come with me. I know I haven’t given you a lot of reasons why coming to Indigo Cloud is good for both of you. And that’s because I’ve been gone too long. I don’t know what’s waiting for us. I’m not going to make empty promises. I can say, Fern, you will need training as a mentor.” 

Fern bristled. She had no idea what "training" entailed. She thought of the groundlings in some of the larger coastal cities who would send their offspring away to far-off scholar enclaves.

"I'm not leaving--" she started.

"You two will stay together," Stone interrupted. 

Moon’s fingers were so tight Fern’s fingers ached. Or maybe her fingers were aching because she was gripping with all her might. Moon relaxed his hand suddenly and squeezed twice. She squeezed back. 

“All right,” Moon said. “We’ll go with you.” 

For once, Fern could read the full expression on Stone’s face. Stark relief. “Good,” he said.

***

Stone went to check what was left of the colony for survivors, which gave Moon just enough time to hunt a grasseater a few hills away from the carnage of Sky Copper. Fern and Moon settled next to a small spring beyond the ridge of the hill with the flat rock and waited. It was well after dark when Stone returned. He smelled even more strongly of death. 

“Nothing?” Moon asked. 

Stone crouched next to the spring and washed the gritty dirt off his face. “I had to dig down to the nurseries.” His voice was rough. “I found what was left of the Arbora clutches, but no royal Aeriat. I know they had at least one fledgling queen. They brought her out to show me the last time I was here.” 

A wave of cold, sick horror swept through Fern. 

“They took them alive,” Moon said. His voice shook a little. 

***

_“Bitter!” someone screamed. There were so many screams, and everything was smoke and it was dark and Frost and Thorn were too far away and flapping and flapping to get to them and there were awful smelly clawed hands grabbing and pulling. The smoke cleared barely enough to see and there were bright green scales with yellow - Frost! - and there was so much smoke and let me go let me go let me go--_

***

Someone was holding her shoulders, holding her up from falling to her knees. She didn’t remember standing up but someone was holding her shoulders and they smelled like death and Fell and she shoved them away, swiping with her claws. The hands released her and she turned her tumble into a desperate scramble to get away, get away.

Moon’s voice cut through her gibbering thoughts. “Fern, it’s all right, it’s me, you’re safe.” She blinked, shook her head, and she looked up and focused her eyes on him. He was crouched in front of her, in his groundling form, his palms facing her, his eyes wide. “What did you see?” he asked, his tone gentle. 

“I don’t - I’m not sure,” she said. “I think. I think I saw inside the colony when the F-- when they were here and someone was screaming my name. No, not me, I mean, someone was screaming Bitter’s name and I saw Frost through the smoke and--” there wasn’t enough air, she couldn’t get enough air.

Moon eased forward slowly and pulled her into his arms. She shifted to her softskinned form. She heard him say over his shoulder to Stone, “Frost? Bitter?”

“I think the fledgling queen’s name was Frost. The other might be a clutchmate.” 

“And Thorn,” Fern said, shuddering. “Thorn was there too and a Fell grabbed me - grabbed Bitter.” Her mouth filled with the taste of salt and her stomach roiled. She pulled away from Moon and stumbled as far from the small spring as she could before she got sick. She was grateful she and Moon hadn’t touched his kill - she didn’t have much in her stomach to vomit. 

She wiped her face afterward, and rinsed her mouth out with spring water. She pulled her hair from its unraveling braid and re-braided it, focusing on making it neat and tight, fixing it carefully with the cord Euga gave her. Moon and Stone ate Moon’s kill in complete silence. She was certain the royal fledglings had been taken alive, but she didn’t know if any other Raksura had escaped the attack. The Fell would have eaten most of the dead, so there was no way to tell. She wondered if Sorrow had fled a tragedy like this, wondered if no one came to rescue them because no one was left to launch a rescue. 

Stone drank from the spring, and stood. “If it gets too much for you, let me know.”

“I’ll bite a hole in your chest,” Moon said mock earnestly. Being carried, especially being carried at speed, wasn’t a comfortable way to travel, and Moon wasn’t accustomed to it. It was going to be a long night and day. 


End file.
